


Poor Ol’ Al

by i_owe_you_a_bourbon



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:20:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_owe_you_a_bourbon/pseuds/i_owe_you_a_bourbon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe I just need to audition for more roles that involve crying over dead and dying family members,” Angie sighed. “It seems to be my niche.”</p>
<p>“You may be onto something there.” Jack gave her one last squeeze and released her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go change into a suit you haven’t wiped your bodily fluids all over.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poor Ol’ Al

Jack was greeted by the sound of tears as he entered the house. “Angie?” he called, freezing warily in the doorway. A tiny bundle of curls and misery emerged from the kitchen, a handkerchief clutched tightly in her hand, her face damp with tears. “Acting, or real?” Jack asked, opening his arms to her anyway.

She curled herself against his chest, burrowing into his embrace. “My uncle died,” she sniffled. “Got the news this morning. Old uncle Al is just _gone_.” She wiped her nose on his shoulder, as subtly as she could. Jack pretended not to notice.

“I’m sorry, Ang,” he said, hugging her closer and lifting a hand to stroke her hair.

She sniffled on his shoulder for a moment longer before pulling back, looking a little too delighted for somebody whose beloved uncle had just died. “Good, right?” she asked.

Jack stared at her for a moment. “I take it ol’ uncle Al didn’t really bite it,” he said finally.

“Oh no, he’s dead,” said Angie, with an unconcerned flap of her hand. “No one really cared for him though. Still, I feel like I should cry at the funeral, ya know? Karma and all.” She made a face, then grinned up at him. “Good, right?”

Jack shook his head at her. “Don’t know how you haven’t landed a part yet.”

“Take it up with the directors, they seem to feel differently.”

“Aw, they’ll see it one day.” 

“Maybe I just need to audition for more roles that involve crying over dead and dying family members,” Angie sighed. “It seems to be my niche.”

“You may be onto something there.” Jack gave her one last squeeze and released her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go change into a suit you haven’t wiped your bodily fluids all over.”

Angie gave him a gentle smack on the chest. “You need your suits ruined more often, you silly peacock. You’re too attached to your clothes.” 

“And you need to stop crying on me.”

Angie considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Deal,” she said. She leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Now go change that suit. There’s snot all over it, it’s disgusting.”


End file.
